Viva La Kirkwall
by Faeruy
Summary: Written for a DAWC challenge: "Write a crossover setting Dragon Age to another TV show or movie, with the cast of DA characters filling in those of the chosen series"  This is DAII characters and setting, with RENT/La Boheme plot.
1. Act 1

Varric sat in the tiny flat he shared with Carver Hawke, scribbling furiously in a leather-bound book. Carver was in a corner, sharpening his sword on a whetstone. They lived in squalor, just one room in an abandoned building. The room was empty save for two beds, two chairs, and a single table with a candle on it. Times were tough in Kirkwall. Varric frowned at the page and mumbled.

"Feastday Eve, it's dark as the Deep Roads out there. I sit here, alone, with Carver, who's sharpening the broadsword he hasn't touched in a year." Varric's brow furrowed, and he started erasing. Carver looked up, annoyed.

"It's a piece of shit sword. Won't sharpen."

"So I hear. Why this sword Carver? Some romantic reason I hope; I need a reason for my new story..."

"I want to do something worthy of a Grey Warden." All of a sudden, a bird flew in the open window and perched on the sill. Varric went over and picked it up. He pulled a message out of the tiny tube attached to it's leg.

_Hey guys!  
>It's me! I hope you're all doing well. I wish you could be here this Feastday, but I understand if you can't. Anyway, Gamlen and Charade are here. We miss you guys, especially you Carver. Ass. Oh and I hope you like the portable campfire. Just don't burn the place down. Also Varric, I'm sorry to hear about Isabela but you know... she's Isabela.<br>Love,  
>Diana Hawke<em>

Varric crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it out the window.

"Hey!" shouted a gruff, indignant voice. Carver's head shot up.

"Fenris!" Varric cried as he raced to the window and looked down at the lyrium-tattooed elf. "Come on up!" The elf gave them a wave and started walking around to the other side of the building. Carver returned to his whetstone. A few moments later, the sounds of a fight broke out somewhere below them. Varric looked at Carver, who merely shrugged.

"Bar brawl?" He didn't sound too worked up over it. Varric was about to respond when another pigeon flew in the window. He sighed and collected the new message.

_Hello Brothers,  
>As you are probably no doubt aware, I'm planning on retaking my throne at Starkhaven. Unfortunately, in order to do that, I need money. I must ask you now for the rent that the two of you have owed me for the last year.<br>Maker be with you,  
>Sebastian<em>

"Shit!"

"You got any money, Varric?"

"Nope. You?"

"Uh-uh."

"Fuck Sebastian."

A third pigeon zoomed in through the window and crash-landed on the floor.

_Hey Varric sweetie,  
>I'm having an itty bitty problem with the ship ceremony I'm planning and it's name is Aveline. She just doesn't know what she's doing. Could you maybe help her out a bit? Please? For me?<br>Love ya,  
>Isabela<em>

Varric rolled his eyes and scribbled something on the back of Isabela's note. He picked up the pigeon and launched it back out the window.

"Are you actually going to help her?"

"Yes."

"You're whipped, my friend."

* * *

><p>Down below, out of view of the dilapidated flat, Fenris was fighting off a legion of bandits. He was holding his own fairly well, glowing and ripping hearts out of chests, but the sheer number of opponents was slowly wearing him down. One bandit got in a knife in under his ribs and the elf collapsed; the glow of his tattoos slowly dimming. Suddenly there was a blue flash, and the rest of the bandits fainted dead away. A hand reached out to the curled-up Fenris.<p>

"Are you okay?" The voice was soft and gentle with more concern than he was used to hearing. Fenris only shook his head. The hand turned over, palm down, and a warmth filled his body. "Better?" He nodded, and reached for the hand. As Fenris got to his feet, he got a long slow look at the man who saved his life. He was tall, human, blonde, and obviously a mage. He wore an ostentatiously feathered robe and carried a long staff. His eyes were brown, but there was hint of something strange behind them. Fenris couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I'm Anders."

"I'm called Fenris. Thank you."

"Fenris? Come on, I've only done a temporary pain block. Let's get you back to my clinic and fix you up. I have a support meeting for Grey Wardens and others who have the taint at dusk, but you should be fixed up by then."

"You're tainted?"

"Yup."

"Me too. Not like you. Not darkspawn tainted, just... wrong."

"You could stay for the meeting. And we could do dinner afterwards. I just got paid." The mage, Anders, grinned brightly. Fenris realized he hadn't let go of the man's arm. He suddenly felt very awkward.

"I was going to meet with my friends..."

"You know you're cute when you're nervous? Your tattoos glow. Come with me."

"Alright. Yes." Fenris felt that this Feastday would be far more promising than the last.

* * *

><p>Back in the apartment, Varric was packing a few things in a satchel; mostly odds and ends and his favorite crossbow, Bianca. He glanced at Carver, still sharpening his sword and staring out a window.<p>

"You should come with me. It could be fun, we could get a drink at the Hanged Man."

"Flat broke, dwarf."

"You'd think Grey Wardens would get a stipend or something. Don't stay cooped up here all day."

With that, Varric slung his satchel over his back and left. Carver stopped sharpening the sword and laid it on the bed beside him. He peered out the window and watched as Varric turned the corner. The dark-haired boy shoved the table, hard enough to send it into the wall, and picked up his sword again. He began shadow-sparring, blocking and parrying an invisible enemy. He started slow and quickly picked up the pace; lunging forward, lightly stepping backwards, until his movement became a graceful and deadly dance. As he was performing a whirling sweep, there was a knock on the door. Carver sheathed his sword quickly.

"Varric, what did you forget this time?"

"I need a candle." The voice was lilting and feminine. Definitely not Varric.

"What? Who is that?" Carver crossed to the door and opened it. Before him stood an elf with short raven-hair. She was thin and frail-looking, with delicate features and mesmerizing green eyes that took up most of her face. Carver couldn't speak.

"Oh, this isn't the shop. Oh well. I don't suppose I could borrow a candle off you, could I?" Her knees buckled slightly when she finished speaking, and Carver rushed to catch her.

"Are you okay?"

"I"m fine... I just... well I may have forgotten to eat today. But you're too kind, really..." she trailed off as Carver just stared at her with a glazed look on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing. You just... remind me of someone" Carver stammered a bit. He realized his hands were her waist. He let go as if she was suddenly covered in flames and went over to the table, ostensibly looking for an extra candle.

"I get that a lot, actually. Who is she?"

"She died. Her name was Bethany." His voice darkened and he refused to look at the elf girl.

"Oh... I'm sorry. So do you have a candle I could borrow?" She asked again. Carver fumbled a bit, but ultimately found a stub. He handed it to her, and she took it with glee. "Oh thank you so much! It will be so helpful to my work." She went lightly to the door. If Carver hadn't just seen her nearly faint, he might have been tempted to call it skipping.

"Do you need a match?" He called out after her. There was no answer from the other side of the door. He sighed and was about to pick up his sword, when he heard a knock on the door. He opened it, and there she was, still with the candle.

"Did you need a light?" He asked. She only shook her head.

"No, I can take care of that myself. I think I dropped something though, a shard of glass, part of my work. I swear I had it when I came in... maybe it's on the floor somewhere, only be careful, it's really sharp. I wouldn't want you to cut yourself." When she stopped speaking, Carver realized he had been staring again. "Is there something on my face?"

"No... it's just you look familiar."

"Like your girl friend who looks like me?"

"Sister, actually, and she didn't exactly look like you, after all, she was human like me, and you're not... But that's not what I meant. I feel like I've seen you somewhere before."

"Do you ever go to the Blooming Rose? A friend of mine got me a part-time job there. I keep the books and do a bit of dancing, and occasionally they have me do a magic trick or two. They don't let me do any of the really dirty stuff... Isabela says I shouldn't."

"Oh, you're the one who does the light show there!"

"It's a living. Not a good one, but then again, I don't need much." Out of the corner of his eye, Carver thought he saw a glint of something. He picked it up, it was a mirror shard. It felt odd, strangely old and evil. He quickly pocketed the piece.

"Oh did you find it?"

"No, just a piece of a broken bottle."

"Oh well. It was nice to meet you..."

"Carver. Carver Hawke."

"I'm Merrill. I hope to see you soon Carver." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the warrior lightly on the cheek. She danced merrily out the door and waved. "Thanks for the candle!" When she was out of sight, Carver let out a repressed sigh, and reached into his pocket for the shard. His hand came up empty.

The door of their flat burst open. Varric walked in, dragging a beat-up, but very happy Fenris behind him. Fenris was carrying a large satchel, which he dumped out on the small table. Food, booze, and other festive Feastday items spilled out.

"Look who it is Little Hawke!" Varric shouted, shoving the Grey Warden towards the elf. "And for Feastday."

"Hi Fenris."

"Carver, you haven't seen anyone but Varric in years, and all I get is 'Hi Fenris'?"

"Sorry. Where did you get all this stuff? Finally take the job with the guard?"

"No, not at all. Gentlemen, I have found us a benefactor this Feastday Eve. He's surprisingly charitable for living in Darktown, and is quite talented too, even if he is a mage. May I introduce to you my dear friend Anders?" The scruffy blond mage walked in through the open door. With a mischievous grin, he waved his staff, sending little light motes dancing around the dim flat. Obligingly, the three men applauded, with Fenris being the most enthusiastic. Anders threw his arms around Fenris and pulled him in for a kiss.

"So tell me Anders," Varric inquired as he brought out his notebook and quill. "How did you get so flush? And meet our friend here?"

"It was a lucky thing, actually. I was in my clinic in Darktown, when some Hightown bitch came in. I was just doing a massive healing spell. She came up to me, and said that she had a problem. There was a dog next door who just wouldn't stop barking. She asked me to kill it, quietly, using magic. She promised to give me a hundred gold if I could pull it off. I'm a cat-person myself, and I wasn't about to turn down the money. So I killed the dog. I think it was called Bon-bon or something. Anyway, it was after that that I was walking by your flat here, and I found Fenris in trouble, so I took him home to patch him up." Varric and Carver exchanged looks at that last bit, but said nothing. Fenris stood behind Anders, holding him by the waist and nuzzling his neck. Varric shrugged and picked up an apple from the table. It was fresh and healthy looking, unlike anything they'd bought in a long while.

A man in blinding white armor strode through the door. Or he would have strode, if he hadn't tripped over the piece of twine on the floor. One end was tied to the handle, the other went somewhere else entirely.

"Hello boys! What's with the string?"

"Sebastian." Fenris, Varric, and Carver groaned in unison.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Fenris let go of Anders and got up in Sebastian's face.

"I need the rent. Now." He said, unperturbed by the white-haired elf.

"Bullshit," Varric said. "You said we could stay here for free."

"I need the money. I need to get back my throne at Starkhaven. I might be able to see my way clear if..."

"If?" Carver said menacingly, his hand on his sword.

"Get me Isabela's ship. It was originally a Starkhaven ship; it's been stolen many times over, but it legally belongs to my family's navy."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Carver asked.

"I don't care. Just do it. Otherwise, you guys are gone." With that, the exiled prince turned on his heel and strode out the door. Varric stuck his tongue out at his retreating back.

"That guy needs to get laid." Anders said.

"Oh by the way, we have a meeting to go to tonight, a sort of support group for Wardens and others with the taint. You should come along." Fenris said, returning his hand to Anders' hip.

"I might stop by, I could get some good stories. But first I have to go help prepare Isabela's ceremony." Varric rolled his eyes and followed Sebastian out the door, taking care not to trip on the twine attached to the knob.

"Carver?" Fenris inquired. The Grey Warden only grunted.

"I'm sure he'll catch up later... he looks preoccupied. Come on Fenris." The mage and the elf walked arm and arm out, and Carver stared after them for a moment, somewhat wistful.

* * *

><p>Varric went down to the docks with his satchel. In front of a freshly painted boat, the guard captain Aveline was struggling and she didn't look happy. There was a string of lanterns lying on the ground, and a half-erected podium at one end of the dock. The redhead was attempting to put together the dais, but she wasn't having any luck.<p>

"Hey Aveline."

"Varric? Shit, I told her not to ask you." She stood up quickly, smacking her head into an over hanging board, and sending the whole podium crashing to the ground. She winced.

"Well, if that's the case, then I'll just go..."

"Wait... no, please... I really could use some help right now." The forlorn look on her face almost made him laugh. Varric set down his pack and pulled out some tools. The two of them worked quietly for a time; Varric worked on the podium, while the much taller Aveline concentrated on hanging up the string of lanterns. The awkward silence got to be too much for the normally-gregarious dwarf.

"So, how are you Aveline?"

"This is weird."

"I'll say."

"I should be on patrol, watching out for my guards, and yet here I am, struggling putting together a ceremony, and for what?"

"For your girlfriend. Aveline, I know this story, it's an old one. She's got you wrapped around your little finger."

"Not entirely."

"She's crazy and selfish, and you don't trust her an inch, and yet you keep going back to her." Varric wasn't really talking to Aveline now, but her eyes narrowed.

"It's not that way..."

"Oh yeah? Has she ever pouted and look sad and called you 'Puppy'?" He brought his hammer down harder than was strictly necessary.

"Never."

"Does she look over your shoulder when you're talking to her?"

"Maybe... Look, were you in love with her?"

"Completely."

"Did she stare at every sailor in the Hanged Man?"

"More than stare."

"Shit." She fumbled with the last lantern, and Varric wasn't sure whether she was referring to that, or Isabela. He decided on the latter.

"Look on the bright side Aveline,"

"It wouldn't matter, I'd still be in love with the wench anyway." Aveline finally got the last lantern up, and Varric got out his crossbow, Bianca.

"Here, watch this." He held a match under the head of a bolt until it caught fire and then took aim at the dark orbs. With a sharp twang, the burning bolt shot through all of the lanterns and landed in the far wall. It didn't look like much now, but at night, the glow would be beautiful.

"Thanks."

"You know what, Aveline? I suddenly feel a lot better now!"

"Somehow, I feel a lot worse." Varric chuckled as Aveline trudged back to her other duties. Unseen by either of them, a dark-haired elf girl was humming as she gathered up a long strand of something.

* * *

><p>At the flat, Carver had gone into another sword-dance. This time his invisible opponent seemed to be much larger than himself and, even in practice, Carver was losing. Sweat creased his brow and his face was red with rage. There was a knock on the door, and Carver was so stunned he dropped his sword to the ground. He scrambled to pick it up, and the door creaked open. Merrill was standing there, holding a ball of twine.<p>

"I decided this isn't a night for being in the Alienage. I want to go out and do something. Would you come with me? It could be fun." In one swift move, Carver brought the broadsword up and held it at the elf's neck.

"Who the hell do you think you are? You barge in here, interrupt my work, and ask me to take you out? On Feastday Eve? Do you have any idea? You with your magic, those eyes, that smile and... fuck it..." The pressure on Merrill's neck lifted. Carver sheathed his sword and paced the room. "Leave me alone. I should tell you... if you knew... I should... NO! Today is not the day. Just take those big green eyes and go." He slumped down on the bed and cradled his head in his hands. Merrill crept towards him and sat down cautiously.

"I don't know what I did, or what you're so angry about... but if this is about your sister... maybe it would do some good to get out for a bit. Forget about the past for a bit. Don't let it stop you from living today. I like you Carver, I want to go out with you. Tonight. That's it."

"Forget about the past. Huh. Funny coming from someone dealing with old magic." Carver mumbled. Merrill started.

"How did you...? No. You know what, it doesn't matter. You don't want to go out with me, I get it. I just thought..." Merrill looked away from him, blushing. She slowly stood up and headed towards the door. "If you change your mind, find me." Once the door shut behind her, Carver rubbed his temples and groaned.

* * *

><p>Anders, Varric, and Fenris walked into a clinic in Darktown. There was a circle of chairs already set up, and about half were occupied. The three latecomers took a seat and a scruffy, downtrodden blonde man spoke first.<p>

"Alistair."

"Faleni." Said the flame-haired elf sitting next to him.

"Nathaniel." That came from a dark, brooding young man.

"Oghren." A gruff dwarf with a red beard took a swig from a hip flask.

"Janeka" An older woman with green eyes nearly spat out her name.

"Larius" The man was also older, and heavily scarred.

"Fenris"

"I'm Anders. Let's begin."

"Who are you?" The elf woman lazily pointed a dagger at Varric, who was scribbling in his notebook.

"Oh, I'm not... I'm just... I'm Varric." He said, putting his notebook away. The elf, Faleni, nodded. She twirled her dagger and sheathed it again.

"Right then. How are we all today?" Anders asked around the circle.

"Lousy. I've lost everything, and I'm going to die young, early and alone." Alistair, the blonde man, was slurring his words and slumping in his seat.

"But how are you today?" Anders asked insistently.

"What?"

"How are you _today_?" Alistair merely shrugged.

"Not awful, I guess. But it's hard. I don't know how long I've got, and I have no home - not really - and no friends. And the nightmares, and the taint, and the compulsion to kill darkspawn." There were nods and murmurs of agreement all around. Suddenly everyone was trying to talk, trying to tell their story. Varric furiously tried to write it all down.

* * *

><p>They reeled out of the clinic hours later, strangely uplifted despite the depressing talk. Varric didn't even mind when he had to shoot a bandit trying to steal his wallet.<p>

"Darktown. Great place too live." Fenris said sarcastically.

"Because Lowtown is so much better." Anders countered back.

"Guys... we live in Kirkwall. It sucks no matter what." Varric entered in.

"We should just go..." Anders sighed dreamily. "Any place in the world would be better."

"How about Llomerryn? You and me?" Fenris said, draping an arm over the mage.

"What would we do there?"

"Open a tavern? I serve the beer, you could do light shows. I could rip people's hearts out if they get angry." His free arm moved animatedly, picturing an invisible tavern in a licentious city. Anders snuggled deeper into his lover's shoulder.

"You do know how to turn a boy on!" He said. Fenris leaned over and kissed the mage deep on the lips. Varric smiled at them and snuck away, not wanting to intrude. He strolled over to Lowtown, where the vendors were out in full force, hoping that people would buy last-minute Feastday Eve gifts. He was about to head into the Hanged Man when Aveline ran smack into him. She looked a bit harried.

"Oof! Oh, sorry Varric, I didn't see you."

"What's going on?"

"Only everything. Just take a look at this." She reached into the pouch on her belt and pulled out a fistful of notes. "Everybody needs something. Half of these are from Isabela."

Varric guffawed. "Of course."

"That's not even the worst. The last one says she's currently at the Hanged Man with Diana Hawke..."

"Uh-oh"

"I'm trying not to see it like that. We're okay... really... now I've just got to take care of this gang problem in Darktown..." With that, the redhead was off again. Varric didn't get very far before he was intercepted by Carver.

"Hey Junior! You're out!"

"I had to get away... that elf... Merrill... a date..."

"Wait, slow down. Tell me the whole story." Varric surreptitiously pulled out his notebook, and attempted to look attentive. Carver rolled his eyes, but started to talk anyway.

Fenris and Anders walked leisurely arm and arm, occasionally throwing cow-eyed looks at each other. They browsed through the merchandise on sale, not with any real purpose, just enjoying the view. After four or five stalls that seemed to hold nothing, they came upon one selling high-quality armor.

"Fenris, you know there's a large hole in your chestplate? Why don't we buy a new one? My treat."

"Anders, I couldn't..."

"Of course you could. Let's do it! And don't worry... I won't pay _that_ much. I've yet to meet a seller who can out-bargain me." Anders suddenly took on a very dark look, and started poking at the armor. The vendor looked a tad frightened.

Meanwhile, Varric just looked confused.

"Wait... so this very sweet, very beautiful elf comes to your apartment, asks you of all people to take her out, and you... run away?"

"I know. I'm an idiot. Come on, let's get a drink. I'm out of shape as it is, why not make it worse?" Carver sighed, and started to turn back towards the Hanged Man. He stopped; his eyes grew large as he stared at one of the stalls. "There she is!"

"Who?"

"Merrill!" The dark-haired elf was busy haggling with one of the merchants over a gold decoration. Her desire for it was obvious, and the seller was taking full advantage of her naiveté. Carver took a breath and walked up behind her. He picked up the trinket and snorted.

"Worthless." Both the seller and Merrill turned on him.

"Hey!" Merrill practically snatched the piece out of his hand. Carver lifted it above his head as high as it would go.

"You don't need this crap."

"I..." she said, trying in vain to jump up and grab the object.

"Yeah she does. Needs it for a project she's working on. Don't ya honey?" The vendor interjected.

"I..." Merrill looked confused.

"You could get it cheaper at the next stall."

"No you couldn't! I'm the only one selling it! Ten gold." The salesman was turning red in the face, desperate to make a sale.

"I swear I saw it for three."

"Really? Where?" Merrill stopped jumping and Carver brought his hand down. The vendor grumbled.

"I'll sell it for six."

"Four."

"Done." He handed the trinket to Merrill, who took it gleefully. She counted out four gold pieces to the vendor, who took them grudgingly. "Listen Merrill, I'm sorry about this afternoon. Can I make it up to you?"

"How?" She eyed him warily, toying with her prize.

"Dinner? We're all going to the Hanged Man tonight."

"Sounds like fun." Her whole face lit up, and once again Carver was reminded of his sister. Varric came up behind the two of them.

"Umm... hi. Merrill? I'm Varric." He stuck out his hand. She took it gently, and he shook it with vigor. "Pleased to meet you."

"And you as well. Are you a friend of Carver's?"

"I'm his roommate." He let go of her hand, and turned to the human. "Hey Junior, remember, there's Isabela's ceremony."

"Right. Like I could forget."

"Speaking of which..." Coming towards them was a dark-skinned woman in a very short dress. She lazily plucked something from a nearby stall and put in her her pouch. She waved at Varric and Carver.

"Hey guys! Have you seen Aveline? I need to find my ship."

* * *

><p>Isabela and the others eventually caught up with Aveline, and Fenris and Anders, and introductions were made all around. There was a group gathered around a large, gaudy looking ship with the name Siren's<em> Call<em> _2_ on the hull. The lanterns were glowing merrily as Isabela stepped up to the dais in the growing dusk.

"Ladies and gents... and those who are neither. I want to thank all of you for coming out to the christening of my ship. It was a long time getting her. And some people wanted to stop me getting her. Somebody told me that the _Siren_ belonged to him. This man, he wouldn't know what to do with her. He has no idea how to make a girl like her shudder and sigh, and ride the waves as high and as fast as she can. He does not realize that she is a wild thing, she doesn't need some weak-willed man to dominate her, she needs a woman, a partner..."

"Is she still talking about the ship?" Merrill whispered to Carver.

"I'm not sure."

"... We should all be able to soar on the sea's wings, like a hawk in the air. Come on everybody, sing with me! Kareeeee! Kareeeee..." As she kept going, she got one or two people to join with her, reluctantly. A raven-haired woman in mage robes was one of them. A redhead wearing a guard uniform was not.

Varric threw a hand to his head. "Oh no..."

"Kareee! Thank you!"

* * *

><p>The after party at the Hanged Man started off a little bit rocky, with the bartender waving them away.<p>

"Please... no! Go! Don't want you here!"

"Why not?" said Isabela, affronted.

"Your group comes in here all the time, and you drink all the liquor, and you never pay your tabs.

"We will tonight." chimed in Aveline.

"No. Uh-uh. No way." There was a sudden shift in the room, and the bartender found a bunch of pointy objects in his face.

"My friend Bianca says otherwise." Varric said, holding his crossbow up to his shoulder. The bartender sighed, and gently pushed it away. He turned back to the bar and started to pour pitchers. The group spread out over several tables, most avoiding the one in the corner occupied by a Chantry sister and a brother in white armor.

"Oh no... what's he doing here?" Fenris groaned. Sebastian overheard the elf and grinned.

"I just came to propose a toast to Isabela and the _Siren's Call 2._" He was smiling, but his voice was pure malice.

"Fuck you." spat out Isabela. "You tried to take my boat."

"Starkhaven's boat." But he only replied half-heartedly. He had spotted Merrill next to Carver. Ignoring everyone else, he stood up and bowed to her.

"Merrill, I'm surprised. I didn't expect you to be hanging out with thieves and bandits. They don't agree with me, but I'm only trying to make Starkhaven and the rest of the Free Marches a better place. Just imagine, a united Free Marches with a strong military and government would severely cut down on the banditry and murder and corruption. Your people could move freely through the woods. These people? They're mercenaries. Free Marches? There's nothing free about them." He sat back down. Carver looked like he was about to clock the smug prince. Varric stood up quickly on the table and held his mug high in the air.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here this Feastday Eve to celebrate the apparent death of the Free Marches. We are a lawless, godless, and hopeless bunch, and we clearly need Sebastian to lead the way. So I say let's raise a glass, or mug, or whatever... TO KIRKWALL!" Varric took a deep draught of ale and wiped his mouth with his arm.

"TO KIRKWALL!" chorused the crowd. Varric wasn't done yet.

"My friends, to a city that will give you everything you need, if you know how to get it. To making a living by killing the people who are trying to kill you and then taking their stuff..." He continued in that vein for some time, but the power of Varric's oratory and the alcohol content of the ale kept people engaged.

"Aveline, did we take down those lanterns?" Isabela asked, throwing her arms around the big woman's neck.

"We did." Aveline said shortly, her face set in stone.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Isabela kissed her on the nose. "Lighten up, puppy." There was a cough from the Chantry sister next to Sebastian. Isabela laughed.

"She's my sister, sister." She put her lips on Aveline and kissed her deeply. "I think the platform still needs packing up." She laughed again and twirled out of Aveline's arms. The guardswoman sighed, and left the tavern.

Anders stood up on the table next to Varric, who had taken a pause to drink.

"To a town where the templars can't tell if you're a mage even if you walk around with a staff and Tevinter robes!" The scruffy blonde man shouted, raising up his own staff. His eyes took on a strange blue light.

"Or even if you cast a spell or started to glow right in front of them!" Merrill chimed in from just underneath him, holding a flame in her hand. Isabela and Fenris both leapt onto another table.

"To the Qunari!" They said in unison. They clinked mugs and drank deeply. Varric drained his dry.

"To Diana Hawke!" The toasts continued, making less and less sense as more and more booze was consumed. Sebastian stood up, and helped Merrill get off the table.

"So Carver doesn't know about..." He asked her.

"Know about what?"

"Us?"

"Was there an us? I don't remember that there was." Sebastian was nonplussed by her frank dismissal.

"He certainly doesn't act like he's with you."

"It's new... and slow."

"Where's he now, Merrill?"

"He's right...wait where did he go?" She tore out of Sebastian's grip and went running out of the Hanged Man. Sebastian watched her leave, then stormed to the bar, pulling out a fistful of coins.

"Here's for my table." He slammed down the coins and left the tavern to the revelers.

Merrill found Carver outside, staring off into the empty street. She sidled up to him, and slapped him on the face. He whipped his head around to face her, startled and hurt.

"What in Andraste's ass was that?" He rubbed his stinging cheek.

"I thought you were going to stop being rude... and all you've done since we got here is ignore me!"

"I'm trying, really I am Merrill. But I'm not perfect. I've got... issues."

"We've all got issues Carver. Life's too short to dwell."

"I should tell you Merrill..."

"I'm tainted."

"What?"

"It's the mirror. When I first touched it... but it's also keeping me alive. If I can fix it... I could cure the taint... I think. I hope."

"I'm tainted too. I was in the Deep Roads and I... I'm a Grey Warden now. Oh Maker... the nightmares." His whole body slumped. She caught his shoulders and forced him to look her in the eyes, her large, limitless green eyes. He grabbed her fiercely around the waist, hugging her to him and burying his face in her neck. She stroked his hair absently and spoke softly.

"I have nightmares too. I can't sleep at night."

"I'm a disaster, Merrill."

"I should tell you Carver... I tied a piece of twine to your door the first time I left. I wanted to find your place again." He lifted his head and smiled her, still holding her small frame as close to himself as possible.

"I'd forgotten how to smile until you skipped out. And part of me was hoping that you'd skip back."

"Shall we try it? Give it a shot?"

"I think..." Carver seemed nervous and took a deep breath. "Yes." He put one hand up to cradle her face, just staring at her face. Slowly he brought his mouth to hers, touching her lips gently with his own. The kiss deepened until the two of them were lost, oblivious to everything around them. Aveline rushed past them into the tavern.

"Hey puppy, are we packed?" Isabela called out. She was dancing in between Fenris and Anders.

"Yes. And by next moon, I want you to be." That stopped the pirate short.

"Puppy?" Aveline ignored her and turned to Varric, who was surrounded by avid listeners.

"Varric, your flat is locked and boarded. Sebastian sent a note to my lieutenant to take back the boat. Luckily he's loyal to me. There's rioting on the docks and there's a surprising amount of hawk calls out there." A cheer went up from the crowd, as well as a few screeches. Varric stood up again.

"You know, there's an old Tevinter saying for times like this..."

"What's that, dwarf?" A female mage in the corner called out joyfully.

"Viva la Kirkwall!"


	2. Act 2

It was a full week before Varric and Carver felt safe enough to try and break back into their building. They had been crashing over at Merrill's place in the Alienage, but not being elves themselves, they were starting to feel incredibly unwelcome. They sent off notes to Aveline, Isabela, Fenris and Anders to come join their venture. Just after full dusk the dwarf, the Grey Warden, and elf mage snuck out to the empty building.

"Coast is clear. Where is everyone?" Varric asked, his teeth chattering in the freezing cold.

"Don't know." Carver said. He held Merrill in a tight embrace, only partially in an effort to keep warm.

"Possibly dressing. I mean, what do you wear for something like this? The whole break in thing? Should we all be wearing black?" Merrill said quickly. She shivered head to toe, and snuggled deeper into Carver's arms.

"Rum anyone?" Isabela stepped out of the shadows, in the same white dress she always wore; her only concession to the occasion being a black corsetlet rather than her usual white one.

"By the Stone Rivaini! You can take the boat away, but a pirate's still a pirate." Varric was surprised but he managed to keep his volume down.

"Be nice dwarf. I know you've gotten quite a bit of money for that Feastday story about me – be glad I don't ask for a cut of the profits." Isabela twisted off the top of the rum bottle and drank deeply.

"Oh please stop fighting, this is supposed to be a fun night!" Merrill interjected.

"Fine. Carver, how does it look?" Isabela said, passing off the bottle to him.

"Not good. Boarded up strong, a lot of locks, stronger than what Varric can deal with, and magical wards over everything. Total dead end." He shook his head.

"Like my ex-girlfriend." The pirate wench sighed. "I sent her a note, apologizing and everything. I just wish she'd forgive me. I'd do anything; even stop doing business for a while."

"That would work for me." Aveline's voice behind her made Isabela jump. Aveline wore a shit-eating grin on her face. "I forgive you... for now. As for you two," here she pointed at Carver and Varric, "technically since this building is abandoned, the guard has no reason to protect it for Sebastian. I heard about how it was boarded up, so I brought something that might help." She lifted a coil off of her shoulder, and handed it to the dwarf.

"Rope! Excellent, now why didn't I think of that? Aveline, you're a genius."

"I know. Come on, isn't your balcony on the other side?"

"It is indeed. Let's go."

"I don't think I like you two so friendly." Isabela pouted.

"Wench, you're coming too." Aveline snagged the pirate around the waist, and dragged her after Varric to the other side of the building, leaving Carver and Merrill alone in front. He looked at Merrill and burst into a hearty laugh.

"I think Isabela's in trouble. I can't believe I'm having so much fun breaking into my home. Merrill, last week I just wanted to disappear – throw myself to the darkspawn. But now I think..." he stopped, unable to finish the sentence. Merrill took his face in her hands and brought it down to her lips, hindering any further thoughts. A low chuckle behind them brought them back up for air.

"Interrupting anything?" Fenris and Anders strolled towards them, each carrying a very full pack.

"You guys came prepared." Carver said as Anders started emptying his. It was full of tools, mundane ones as well as some odder looking equipment.

"I used to try and escape the Circle every chance I got. I figured this couldn't be much harder." Anders held up a crowbar. "Show me the door."

"Where's everyone else?" Fenris asked, looking around.

"Playing at sailors." Carver answered. Around the back, with the help of the rope, Isabela and Varric had managed to get to the top of their balcony. Aveline went around to the other side to rejoin the others. Varric spotted a white piece of paper, and picked it up.

_Hello Carver and Varric,  
>I heard you got locked out of your flat. That blows. I figured Sebastian wouldn't keep you out for long though; send me a message when you return okay? Congrats Carver, for finally leaving the place, and with a <em>_girl! I've also heard you've already made quite a bundle off of the story already Varric, good for you. Now when will you write my autobiography? Seriously though, I have a job coming up, and I could really use your help.  
>Love,<br>Diana Hawke_

Varric groaned. Isabela snatched the note out of his hand.

"Ooh, fun! A job! We should do it!" There was a loud banging on the door as Anders and Fenris tried to take it apart.

"Really? But it's a Hawke scheme. They always end bad."

"But it will be exciting... and there will be money..." There was one more loud bang, and a thud as the door fell forward off of it's hinges. Backlit by the sun stood Carver, Merrill, Fenris, Anders, and Aveline.

"We're in!" Cooed Anders, twirling a crowbar. Everyone else cheered and stepped over the fallen door. Their cheer was cut short by a small cough from the door.

"I see I've been preceded." Sebastian said smoothly. The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees as he stepped into the flat.

"How did you know we'd be here?" Carver said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Had a hunch. Look, I just want to end this war. Too bad you destroyed the door." Sebastian looked back over his shoulder and tsked.

"What made you change your mind?" Merrill asked.

"You did. You made a good case yesterday." Sebastian's easy smile turned suddenly into a leer.

"What?" Carver stared wide-eyed at Merrill, who shook her head in confusion.

"Merrill came to visit me in the Chantry. She had a lot to say."

"I..." She looked pleadingly between Sebastian and Carver.

"I couldn't stop thinking about the whole mess. Varric, you should be writing this down. I regret what's happened in the past week, and it is with pleasure that I hand you this key." He presented a key to Carver, who took it gingerly between two fingers. Anders started up a slow clap, with Isabela joining him deliberately out of rhythm.

"Out of ink." Varric mumbled.

"Are you going to return my boat?" Isabela sneered.

"That ship is property of the Starkhaven navy. If I am ever to take back my crown..."

"Spare us, please" Carver groaned, handing the key over to Varric.

"Merrill, please try to use your considerable charm to calm your boyfriend down."

"What?" Merrill looked rather confused.

"Did she tell you she came to see me? And tried to flirt with me?"

"Liar!" Carver shouted, pulling his sword halfway out of it's sheath. Only Merrill's hand on his shoulder stopped him from going further.

"Did you know who her last boyfriend was?"

"Come on people! Is this any way to behave? I do not want to have to patch you all up." Anders put a protective arm around Merrill. Carver and Sebastian glared at each other silently for a moment before Sebastian turned and walked back out the door. Fenris grabbed the bottle of rum from Isabela's hand.

"A toast!" He exclaimed. "To us." He took a swig and passed it to Anders.

"Let's always stay friends." The mage took his own toast and handed the bottle to Merrill.

"I'll drink to that." was her small reply, before giving the bottle to Aveline and Isabela.

"We may fight..." said the guard.

"But that's cause we're family." was Isabela's rejoinder. Aveline pulled the pirate to her and kissed her deeply on the mouth. Varric carefully took the forgotten rum out of Isabela's hand.

"To friends. Cheers." He emptied the bottle in one pull. "Come on, Hawke has a job for me. Us. Let's go get ourselves killed, shall we?" The group filed out of the broken doorway. Merrill stayed behind a moment, pale and swaying. Carver was almost out the door when he turned to find her. Concern grew on his face.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean... Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'll catch up in a minute." She waved him away, smiling weakly. When everyone was gone. she collapsed into the nearest chair. She sat there for awhile, rubbing her temples and taking slow careful breaths.

It was a few months later and Varric was alone, writing in his journal. Not the one he wrote stories in; those things he pedaled as truth but had only a passing relationship with the word, no, instead he wrote the unadorned truth; to himself only.

_It's empty and quiet, like the calm before a storm. Carver is at Merrill's in the Alienage; it's a nicer place than ours. He's troubled; keeps talking about going back to Fereldan. He won't though. Anders and Fenris are out adventuring; I think Anders is seeking Justice for Fenris. Justice or Vengeance? I can never tell. They want to take down his old master. Isabela and Aveline are working on reclaiming her ship. I don't think Aveline's happy about the way she's going about it._

Varric looked up, chewing on the end of his quill. He swore he could almost hear the two women arguing over at the docks. He couldn't; but that's only because they hadn't gotten to full volume yet.

"Aveline!" Isabela whined, "I can't help who I am. I have never pretended otherwise, you know that. I see something I like, I go after it and get it."

"But do you have to 'go after' every warm-blooded body in Kirkwall?" Aveline stood with arms crossed, anger radiating out of every pore. Isabela rolled her eyes.

"Oh Andraste's tits, not this again. Look, I'm with you, okay? I _want_ to be with you. If you're going to be like this every time I so much as _look_ at somebody else..."

"You did more than look."

"I am _trying_ to get my ship back. If it means that I have to sleep with a guy, or steal something or blackmail someone, I'll do it." Isabela's smile was sultry and predatory as she slinked up to Aveline, placing her hands on the guard's folded arms. "I know you love it when I'm doing something awful." She planted a quick kiss on the tip of Aveline's freckled nose. The redhead's fists clenched and as she broke away from the pirate.

"You're not getting off that easy. And no I don't. Maker take you Isabela, I am a guard! I protect the city from people like you. I love you. I do. But I can't take the fall for your every move, and I won't if you fuck around on me." Aveline was starting to get louder, despite the crowd of sailors working around them. "You want me? Great, then don't be a slut."

"You're such a prig."

"You bitch." Aveline loomed over Isabela, fist up and restrained only by a thin tether of will.

"Man-hands." Isabela rose to her toes to stand eye-to-eye with the taller woman, one hand reaching for the dagger on her back.

"Whore." A wolf-whistle from one of the sailors brought the two of them back down to earth. Isabela let go of the dagger, Aveline relaxed her fist. They continued to glare at each other for a moment until Aveline broke the silence.

"Forget it. I'm done with you." She turned on her heels and headed back to Hightown.

"Good riddance." mumbled Isabela. She stood at the docks for a long while, just watching the guardswoman walk away.

In the Alienage, Carver was alone in Merrill's flat. He stared at the half-finished mirror, and he could feel the aura of sleeping malevolence around it. His hands itched to do something, anything to make the evil go away, but Merrill wouldn't let him touch it. The best he could do was be there to protect her when it awoke. The whole thing was putting him on edge. Merrill walked through the door.

"Where were you?" He snarled.

"I'm... I'm sorry... I..." Merrill stuttered. She was completely taken aback by Carver's greeting. The hurt in her eyes made Carver even angrier.

"I know. You lost your way again? You went to Sundermount? How's Sebastian, by the by?" His voice dripped with scorn. Merrill's mouth tightened and she refused to look at him; Carver thought he struck home. "I'm going to be at my flat tonight."

"I didn't... that's not why... I should..." She started to plead but his cold eyes stopped her. "Forget it." Carver pushed past her and out the door, slamming it behind him. Merrill picked up a small wrench and started to fiddle with one of the decorations on the mirror frame. She saw her reflection and gazed at it for a long while. Without thinking she brought her hand up, ready to smash the mirror with the wrench. The elf saw her own green eyes fill with tears; she tore herself away from the mirror and threw herself onto the bed. Her tiny frame racked with sobs, Merrill cried until exhaustion overcame her.

Carver startled Varric when he came storming into the flat. He ignored the dwarf's surprised greeting and threw himself onto his own bed, curling up in a fetal position. Varric went back to writing as Carver stared unseeing the wall, trying in vain to sleep. A pigeon flew into the open window.

_Hi Varric,  
>I've got a favor to ask. I have another expedition into the Deep Roads planned, and I need people to come with me, it's in three months. Can you convince everyone to come? You're good at that. It should go off a lot better than our first trip. I know you all need the money, though Maker knows why you won't let me just give it to you. But I'll need everyone; you, Carver, Merrill, Fenris, Anders, Aveline, Isabela. Especially convince Carver if you can. He won't talk to me, and I miss my brother.<br>Love,  
>Diana Hawke<em>

He thought about telling her no, but she was right. He needed the money, and he wasn't going to take charity. Maybe in three months they would be ready.

They were; mostly. Somehow in three months Varric and Diana managed to convince everyone to make a trek into the Deep Roads. Aveline and Isabela were back together again, for the moment. Carver was protectively hovering over Merrill, though she didn't need it; despite the fact that she looked frailer than ever, she was an absolutely deadly mage. Fenris and Anders made for a devastating combo, and seemed to be as much in love as ever. As they made their way through the Deep Roads, Diana took point and Varric took the rear; watching his friends, and writing his observations whenever he got the chance. They set up camp, each couple to a tent with Varric and Diana sharing one as the odd men out. They spent their first evening laughing and joking, and if they weren't hundreds of feet underground in darkspawn territory, it would have been perfect.

It didn't last. As they went further and further in, with no sign of what they were looking for, tensions rose and arguments broke out. Sleeping arrangements changed overnight, with only Fenris and Anders strong enough to stay together. Isabela left Aveline's tent for Diana's, Merrill refused to sleep in Carver's tent, and Carver and Varric were roommates once more. The tension abated only slightly when they hit their destination - there were few items of worth; enough for the party to stay afloat, but nowhere near the riches they were expecting.

And it went downhill from there. Only a few miles from the entrance, they met a large horde of darkspawn, larger than anything they had faced thus far. They tried their best to rally as a team, but their resentments had been at a boil for far to long, and it looked like the massive amount of enemies would take them down. All of a sudden, Anders, who had been in the back, rushed ahead of the others and brandished his staff, eyes glowing a bright blue.

"YOU WILL NOT HAVE THEM!" He shouted in a strange voice far deeper than normal. A shield went up around the party members moments before a blast of light seemed to rip out of the mage's body, blinding everyone. The howling of the darkspawn stopped abruptly.

It felt like hours before Varric could see again. He watched the group pick themselves up slowly, blinking and squinting in the darkness of the road. He looked in the direction of the darkspawn horde, but there was no sign of them. Nor did he see Anders. He staggered over to the last place Anders stood, and felt along the ground. There was a black scorch mark, and a single feather from his robes. Fenris looked at the dwarf, hope and fear pouring out of his eye. Varric shook his head slowly.

"He's gone."

The rest of the trip back to the surface was uneventful and subdued. Fenris was unreachable, lost in his own private misery. He kept searching the shadows and corners, hoping against hope that he would find some sign that Anders was still alive. There was none.

It was a full week before Fenris believed that Anders was really gone, and another month before a memorial could take place. They chose a spot on the Wounded Coast, each person bringing a memento that reminded them of the mage, placing them in a small boat to be burned and sent out to sea. Former Fereldans, Grey Wardens, Aveline's guards, and Sebastian also came out to pay their respects.

"Anders was a good man. Despite everything that had happened to him, he truly cared about people; the weak, the sick, the tainted. He believed in freedom, in justice, and though he made mistakes, he always did what he thought was right. He saved my life more times than I can count. I loved... no... I still love him. He is my life... my..." Fenris's grim stoicism broke down, and he fell to the ground in the sand, sobbing. It was Diana who performed the final steps of the ritual and the group watched silently as the flaming boat drifted away from them.

Carver sighed and started to head in the direction of Kirkwall. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to face a large pair of green eyes.

"Is it true you're going back to Fereldan?" She asked timidly.

"It's true. I'm leaving tonight. I hear you've been spending an awful lot of time at the Chantry for a Dalish."Carver tore his eyes away from hers and saw Sebastian standing behind her.

"I thought you were through with him, Merrill." Sebastian said heatedly.

"Sebastian, please." Merrill tried to shush him. Unfortunately, Isabela and Aveline were coming up the path and had heard everything.

"Why do you care so much, _brother?_" Isabela spat out the word as if it was pure filth.

"Isabela, it's not your business." Aveline warned her sternly.

"I'm not talking to you." The pirate refused to look at the guardswoman. Aveline threw up her hands in frustration.

"It's always the same, isn't it? Unless she wants something, I don't exist. I try everything, and she doesn't give a shit." Aveline was shouting now, and the increased volume brought Varric running, waving his arms frantically at the group.

"Carver only ever talked about leaving Kirkwall, even while saying he was in love with me, like I didn't matter." Merrill's voice was venom.

"Guys, calm down!" Varric said, but Merrill and Aveline were past the point of listening.

"What I wouldn't give for what Anders and Fenris had." Aveline glared at Isabela.

"Someone who would just be with you, and not trying to run." Merrill agreed, going to the redhead's side, who wrapped a protective arm around the elf.

"You talk a good game, Merrill, but what about that damn mirror? You talk about me being distant, but you would lock yourself in with that thing for days at a time." A cough from the shadows stopped him from going further. Fenris stepped out of the shadows, tears streaming down his face.

"Please everyone... stop this. For my sake? For Anders? Maker.." He took a deep, stuttery breath. "I can't believe he's gone. Carver, I can't believe you're actually leaving. I... Anders gave his life for us, he wouldn't want this. I know that. He wouldn't want us to say goodbye." He stared towards the blazing boat, now no more than a speck of light in the distance. Fenris turned away from the group, and started up the hill. A chagrined Isabela and Aveline silently followed, and one by one they all left until Varric and Carver were left alone.

"I'll miss you Junior." Varric said quietly.

"I'll miss you too. How could Merrill... Sebastian?" Carver kicked the dirt at his feet.

"How could you let her go? She was the best thing to happen to you." There was no response at first.

"She has issues." The forlorn warrior replied at last.

"So do you."

"Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that?"

"I'm your friend Carver."

"Sure, Varric, but who are you? The observer, the storyteller? You spend so much time creating and telling your stories, but you never actually live them. You're best friend is a crossbow, not me. You hide in the shadows, Varric."

"Maybe, but out of the two of us, I like my chances of survival."

"Fuck you."

"Merrill still loves you, you know. Are you really jealous, or just afraid for her?"

"She did look awfully pale." Carver mused.

"I don't think she's eating. She's obsessed with that mirror. I leave her some food sometimes, outside her door, but it's always still there when I come back. She's into something dangerous, and you're running away."

"I... No... I've gotta go." Just then, Merrill stepped out from behind a rock, startling Carver. "You heard."

"Yes." She said quietly. "I just wanted to say goodbye. I thought... I thought maybe you could help me, that we could save each other... anyway, goodbye emma sa'lath." Carver only stalked past her up the hill towards Kirkwall. Varric placed one hand on her back, but she shied away.

"Sorry Varric, I just, I just need to go away for awhile. I need to finish what I started."

"Alright." The two of them walked silently side-by-side.

Carver had been in Fereldan at Vigil's Keep for a month. He had battled darkspawn daily, but instead of feeling like he was saving the world, everything felt like a chore. He was haunted at night by visions of a mirror, and Merrill's eyes turning from green to red. He finally stopped sleeping altogether, and one morning the newly returned Warden-Commander came up to him during training.

"Carver, what's wrong? I'm told you've been off your game for a few days." The flame-haired elf woman said sternly. "You look awful."

"I've been having nightmares." He admitted, ashamed.

"We all have nightmares." Her giant blue eyes, so similar and yet so different from Merrill's, held little pity.

"This is different." Carver went on to explain the situation. The Warden-Commander's expression morphed into something resembling fear. He came to a sudden realization. "Commander, I need to go back to Kirkwall."

"By the Creators, of course you do. Go. Now! Save Merrill!" She smiled for a quick second. "And tell her Faleni Mahariel says hello, and dareth shiral." Carver mouthed the unfamiliar words as elf Warden shoved him towards the gates.

In Kirkwall, Varric was suffering from writer's block. His latest stories weren't bringing anything in and he spent his days writing fluff for minor nobles, and his nights doing odd and illegal jobs for them. One night, he had a dream involving Ander's final words and a blast of light. He woke up, and realized he had a story to tell after all. He set down to work, and didn't come out for weeks, ignoring all missives.

_Varric,  
>What are you doing? I'm told you're still here, but you don't answer your door. Please talk to me. I have no idea what's going on. It's almost Feastday, and I want you all to be with me. Also if you could pass this on to Carver, if you know where he is. I don't.<br>Diana Hawke_

_Carver,  
>Where did you go? I heard you went to Fereldan, to Vigil's Keep, but when I asked after you, some Dalish woman said that you left and were heading to Kirkwall. What in the Fade is going on?<br>Your sister,  
>Diana<em>

In front of a door in the alienage there was a white piece of paper.

_Merrill,  
>I hope you're okay. Where are you? What are you doing? Don't do anything stupid, please. We all love you. Just send a pigeon when you get a chance.<br>Take care of yourself,  
>Diana Hawke<em>

And yet another one in the guard captain's office

_Aveline,  
>Your guards won't let me see you. What did I do? Please talk to me.<br>Happy Feastday,  
>Diana Hawke<em>

Varric had gotten through a second draft of his epic poem on Feastday Eve, when Carver came bursting through the door.

"I know what I'm supposed to do now!" He announced to the very surprised dwarf.

"Good for you" Varric said dryly once he regained his composure. "I've just finished a draft of my new story."

"That's great! I'd love to read it, but afterwards. I need to find Merrill."

"She won't see anyone."

"Not even Sebastian. Of course, the Chantry moved him to Tantervale, so there's that." Fenris said lazily, coming in through the door behind the frantic Carver.

"Good for them." Carver smiled at the news. "What brings you hear Fenris?"

"I just thought I'd come by with presents. Anders apparently stole a large share of goods from my former master, and I thought I'd share."

"Good for Anders." Varric grinned greedily. There was a thud from below, and some frantic arguing.

"Varric, Carver, anyone... help!" It was Isabela's voice, but so full of fear and worry that it was almost unrecognizable. The three men rushed to the window. Below, Isabela was carrying a small figure in her arms. Aveline was with her, dragging a large cloth covered item behind her.

"It's Merrill, something to do with the mirror! We need your help getting it up!" Then men raced down the stairs, Varric and Fenris helping Aveline with the large object, while Carver took Merrill from Isabela's arms. Isabela led the way back to the flat, babbling the whole way up.

"We just went to visit her, me and Aveline, trying to get her to come out. Her door was unlocked, and we went in. She... she wasn't conscious. She's woken up a bit, but she's in really bad shape. I mean it. I've never seen someone so..." She held the door open for Carver, who went straight to the bed and deposited Merrill on top of it. Aveline and the others set down the object, and removed the cloth, revealing the mirror. With everyone in, Isabela shut the door and rushed over to the side of the bed. Merrill smiled up at Carver.

"You're back." Her voice was weak, and she started shivering. "It... it's cold..."

"We need wood, a fire, food... something." Isabela stuttered worriedly.

"I think she needs more than that." Carver said gravely. Merrill reached up and put a hand to Carver's cheek.

"I should tell you... me and Sebastian, I never.."

"I know. It's okay. I didn't leave because..." Carver put his own hand on top of hers.

"I know. Carver... the mirror... it's almost done. Ma erlath, I love you." Her hand fell away from his face, and she closed her eyes. Carver sobbed.

"No... no you can't. I won't let you." Deliberately, he stood up and walked towards the mirror. He could feel the artifact radiating evil. "I won't let it." Without another word, Carver drew his sword. With a mighty swing, he sliced the mirror. There was a crash, and a tinkle of glass as a thousand tiny shards fell to the ground. "I love you, Merrill."

The room fell silent. All eyes were on the prone figure on the bed. Aveline stood behind Isabela, her arms around the pirate's waist, Isabela leaning her head back on the taller woman's shoulder. Fenris and Varric stood guard by the door. Carver was shaking, he lost his grip on the sword, letting it drop with a clang.

Merrill sat up, gasping for air like a drowned woman. Carver rushed to her side.

"I saw Anders." She said, gasping between words.

"What?" Fenris exclaimed.

"I was in the Fade. He was there. He said 'I will not let the demon have you here. Go back. Carver will save you from the demon there.'" She searched Carver's hopeful face. "You destroyed the mirror." He nodded, and she threw her arms around him. "Thank you, my love." She whispered in his ear. "Don't ever leave me."

"Never." He murmured. Varric cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Merrill, are you going to be all right?" He asked. She surveyed the room – saw Aveline and Isabela snuggling close together, Fenris watching protectively, and Varric without Bianca or his notebook in sight – and she smiled.

"Today, Varric, I think I will be." And that was all that was mattered.


End file.
